


they slap you like a bitch and you take it like a whore

by somepeoplearewild



Series: FUCK YOU SUCKER [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demons, Everyone Is An Asshole, F/M, M/M, Pre-Slash, Season 3a, Slight pining, Succubi & Incubi, werewolf ogling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 11:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somepeoplearewild/pseuds/somepeoplearewild
Summary: Who doesn't love being cornered?





	they slap you like a bitch and you take it like a whore

Not only does coach make him run suicides until he throws up as punishment for being late to practise, but he also forces Stiles to stay behind afterwards to clean up all the extra gear off the field, which is usually Greenberg’s job (not because he’s forced to but because the weirdo volunteers to do it), so by the time he finally completes the three separate trips back and forth between the field and the shed, the school is almost entirely vacated. All his teammates (including Scott, the unloyal bitch, who abandoned him on account of inviting himself along to Isaac, Lydia, and Allison’s study session to essentially cockblock) are long gone, as well as Coach who tossed him a pair of keys (presumably to the shed and his office) and told him he would make him cut the field with a pair of scissors if he lost them.  
  
So, thankfully, no one is there to witness the highly undignified noise that tears out of his throat when his body is suddenly spun around and forced against the bricked side of the shed. He cowers in on himself, eyes clamping shut as he crosses his arms in front of his face protectively.  
  
“Stiles,” a very flat, very obviously unimpressed voice says, which immediately disarms his body’s built-in (kinda shitty) security system. When he opens his eyes, Derek is just staring at him flatly. Somehow, even the way the man blinks conveys just how much Derek’s judging him.  
  
“Dude!” Stiles shrieks indignantly, giving the other man a rather fruitless shove, adrenaline still circulating through his body like static electricity. Derek doesn’t even flinch at the assault, just glares at him. “That was entirely fucking unnecessary! You have my phone number. For the last time: Just. Text. Me. My fucking babcia knows how to text and she’s 79!”  
  
Derek rolls his eyes, but stays close to him anyways, electing to completely ignore everything Stiles has just said. “I need to talk to you.”  
  
“Me? Why me?”  
  
“Oh, I don’t know,” Derek begins, the heavy sarcasm practically leaking out of his pores. “Maybe because you’re dating a demon.”  
  
“God, not you too,” Stiles moans unhappily. “What does my love life have to do with you?”  
  
“You’re putting my pack in danger. Ergo, it is my business.”  
  
“ _'Ergo,’_ ” Stiles mocks, leaning back against the side of the building— mostly to put some space between him and Derek because being this close to the man is doing ungodly things to his heart rate. And like, he has to notice it, right? There’s no way he hasn’t picked up on Stiles’ minor yet majorly embarrassing crush on him. It’s barely even a crush, anyway; more like a very subtle attraction that’s mostly due to hot-person proximity and is decidedly not a result of Derek’s oh-so winning personality. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Peter, who— I have to emphasise just one more time because you still don’t seem to get it— killed your sister, bit my best friend against his will, went on a murder spree, tried to make Scott kill _me_ , attacked Lydia, kidnapped me, almost killed Allison, _and_  rose from the fucking dead. But _nooo_ , I’m the one putting your pack in danger. Oh yeah, the pack that’s currently short two members. Shouldn’t we be focusing on that?”  
  
“Yeah, we should be,” Derek grinds out through clenched teeth, stepping into the formerly empty space between them so quickly that Stiles reflexively rears his head back and smacks it against the wall. He would rub his head and check the spot for blood, but Derek’s angrily heaving figure is so inappropriately close to him that for a brief second his idiot brain prepares to be kissed. “But instead I have to deal with your stupid teenage bullshit.”  
  
“Tone down the condescension. You were a teenager like two years ago, bud,” Stiles replies shakily, only flinching a little when Derek literally growls in his face. “Besides, Vanessa is innocent until proven guilty.”  
  
“She’s a demon.”  
  
“And you’re a predacious beast.”  
  
“She could hurt you.”  
  
“I don’t think she will, but it’s not like it matters; I’m literally the most useless member of this little disasterpack. I’m like a tiny little shrunken arm hanging off-“  
  
“Stop being ridiculous. If we didn’t need you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Derek backs off of him then, an awkwardness filling the air as he coughs. “I, uh, actually came to you to ask for your help.”  
  
“My help?”  
  
Derek grunts affirmatively before explaining himself. “Last night, Peter looked into Isaac’s memories and saw Erica and Boyd. The alpha pack has them locked up somewhere, but we only have until tomorrow at sundown to find them. I need to know that’s what he really saw. I need more information.”  
  
“Why tomorrow? What’s special about tomorrow’s full moon?”  
  
“I don’t know, but Deucalion said they would be dead by then.”  
  
A cold chill of panic and dread shoots down Stiles’ spine at the prospect of Erica and Boyd dying. It just adds to his anxiety on top of Heather going missing last Saturday. Three days ago, they stopped looking for her and started searching for her body.  
  
“Scott’s with Isaac right now. I’ll call him to meet us at the animal clinic. Deaton probably knows something we can do to find them. Do I have time to shower?” Stiles asks all in one breath.  
  
“No, there’s no time. We need to go now. Just toss your shit in my trunk. We’re taking my car.”  
  
••••  
  
Not even a second after Stiles ends his phone call with Scott, his phone starts ringing again. Stiles cringes as he reads the caller ID, eyes cutting to Derek who seems to grow more tense behind the steering wheel with every ring of his phone.  
  
“Aren’t you going to answer that?”  
  
“No. Nope. It’s fine, I’m just-“  
  
“Take the damn call, Stiles,” Derek commands, Stiles fumbling with the device in his haste to click the little green button.  
  
“Heyyyy, what’s up?” he says awkwardly, praying to little baby Jesus in a manger that the girl on the other end doesn’t say anything about previous events that afternoon.  
  
“I just wanted to hear your voice. You know, you never replied to those videos I sent you. Did you like them?”  
  
Stiles splutters out an affirmative, catching Derek’s eyes. He raises a questioning eyebrow at Stiles, clearly listening in on his conversation. Stiles darts his eyes away shamefully, electing to stare out of the window instead.  
  
“That’s good,” Vanessa purrs down the line, and Stiles can just picture her lounging in her bed, twirling a piece of her long, black hair around in her fingers. “I liked making them. I get so turned on just thinking about y-“  
  
Stiles hangs up before she can say anything else, staring at the road in front of them and willing it to open up and swallow the car so that he can escape the mortifying idea of spending five more minutes trapped in the car with Derek after that just happened. He doesn’t even get a chance to open his mouth before his phone is ringing again, and he cautiously answers it.  
  
“What the fuck, Stiles?”  
  
“Hi, sorry. I have nosey werewolf company right now. I’m in the car with him, and I just panicked.”  
  
“Oh... is he still listening?”  
  
Stiles glances at Derek who has folded his lips into his mouth trying to suppress the laughter that still causes his shoulders to shake.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Cool. Well, I just wanted to let you know how badly I want to ride your dick. Have fun. Bye.”  
  
Derek finally releases a loud “HA!” along with a couple of low chuckles as the line goes dead. “Hmm, maybe I was wrong. I think I might like her.”  
  
“Oh, shut the fuck up and drive, wolfass.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ok i'm pretty sure there's only one more fic in this unless i decide to write a sex scene for certain people who aren't sterek or stiles/vanessa


End file.
